A Different Sort of Fatherhood
by deebainwonderland
Summary: Short story series exploring the relationship between Alfred Pennyworth and Bruce Wayne based on episodes. Father and son by anything but design.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is going to follow the episodes of** _ **Gotham**_ **with the exploration of the relationship between Alfred and Bruce. It will not include every scene from every episode, just my favorites as I write about my favorite dynamic on the show. Enjoy!**

 _Episode 1_

Alfred Pennyworth was, in essence, a simple man. Not a simple life, but a simple man. He didn't talk much about his past because the only thing he had now was his future. And he rather liked how his future was looking.

Thomas and Martha Wayne were his employers and his friends. They had given a jaded old man a second chance and he vowed long ago to spend the reminder of his life serving them in gratitude.

Then, of course, there was little Master Bruce. A boy all of twelve, and yet the most important thing in Alfred's life. He was such an intelligent and kind boy. Alfred often found himself wishing that Bruce lived anywhere but Gotham. But Master Thomas said that the work he was doing here was important so stay they did.

And Alfred was happy.

At the moment, Alfred was in the Wayne manor, vacuuming one of the many sitting rooms. The Wayne family were at the movies together and although Alfred has offered to drive them, Master Thomas had said they would go the old fashioned way in order to spend some much needed time together.

Alfred was no offended but as the small family left the manor, he couldn't help feeling a small twinge in his gut. Gotham was not a place to be trifled with.

But he had shaken off the feeling and gone about the housework. This would be something he would come to regret for the rest of his life.

The phone was ringing. Alfred carefully turned off the vacuum cleaner and walked briskly through the halls to answer it.

"Wayne residence," he said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then a voice came through the receiver, "Is this Alfred Pennyworth?"

"It is," Alfred replied, his stomach clenching, "Who's this then?"

"My name is Officer Lane, Mr. Pennyworth. I'm afraid I've got some very bad news".

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Alfred does not remember driving to the crime scene. He did not dwell on the fact that Master Thomas and his wife were dead. There was only one thing that mattered. The boy lived.

Alfred remembered the day that Master Thomas and Lady Martha had asked him the most important question of his life.

Master Bruce had barely been one year old at the time and Alfred had been out in the garden with him, pushing a little blue toy car, much to the boy's happy amusement.

It had taken Alfred a moment to realize that they were being watched. He had started upright guiltily. It was not a butler's place to be playing with his charge.

Master Thomas had only smiled. "Bring Bruce here will you, old man?" he had called.

Alfred had scooped up the little boy who began to play happily with the buttons on his coat. When he reached the parents who were sitting at one of the small outdoor tables, he had offered them their son.

To his surprise, Lady Martha had shaken her head with a small smile. Confused, Alfred sat with the Waynes, with Bruce bouncing lightly on his lap.

"Alfred," began Master Wayne, "We want to ask you a question. Please not feel that you must answer it now or that it is part of your job."

Alfred nodded and waited. Master Thomas seemed to struggle to find the right words and turned to his wife for assistance.

Martha Wayne reached out and took Alfred's free hand.

"Alfred, we need to change our will to include Bruce," she said in her soft voice, "And if something were to happen to Thomas and I, we would very much like for you to continue to care for Bruce."

It took a few moments before the words sunk in. His expression must have not looked very welcoming to the idea because Martha quickly continued, "I know it is asking a lot and if you need time to think about it we completely-"

"Yes!" cried Alfred, the word nearly exploding out of him. His grip on the child in his arms tightened and Bruce gurgled.

"It would be my honor to care for Master Bruce," Alfred amended, heat flooding his cheeks. The answer had seemed so obvious to him. As if Alfred Pennyworth would really allow some stranger to take his charge away from him.

Thomas and Martha Wayne looked at each other for a moment before laughing. "Well, I guess that's that then!"

It wasn't hard to find the crime scene. The flashing police lights painted to the sky blue and red.

Alfred nearly shot out of the car, slamming the door behind him. His eyes passed over the bodies on the ground and focused on an old iron staircase several yards away.

There was Bruce Wayne huddled against an unfamiliar man, eyes wide and shaking.

Alfred was across the street in a second and Master Bruce was running towards him. The boy hit him like a freight train and Alfred lifted him into the air. For a brief second, he allowed himself to be overcome with relief. His boy was safe.

The man who had been sitting with Master Bruce came up slowing behind the boy. "James Gordon," he offered.

Giving the man a quick once over, he looked barely more than a boy himself, Alfred replied, "Alfred Pennyworth." His arms remained tight around the child.

He listened half-heartily as Gordon said something about getting to the guy who killed the Waynes.

His heart twists. "Good luck mate," he said, knowing nothing would come of it. The killer would likely never be caught.

Alfred ushered Master Bruce, his only master left, along and tried to shield him from the prying eyes of the others in the alley.

"Stand up straight," he whispered. Bruce took a deep shuddering breath and did as he was told.

He could see the haunting in Bruce's eyes. Alfred had no idea what would happen to them know but he knew one thing for certain. Death would have to pry Bruce Wayne from his own cold, lifeless fingers.

 **Please Review!**


	2. Episode 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Gotham. Some small quotes are directly from the show. Those parts are credited to Gotham.**

 _Episode 2_

Alfred's anger was a truly terrible thing. Terrible, but useful. He could remember more than a few times where that anger had saved his life while in the Queen's service.

But as with all dangerous things, Alfred had to be careful with his anger. Especially when his life now revolved around a child.

Bruce was angry now as well, of course. No child could go through seeing their parents gunned down right in front of them in the streets and come out just the same. But Master Bruce's anger was focused, he had a purpose.

Alfred's anger, on the other hand, was a beast. An untamed beast.

The Waynes were rarely at the receiving end of their butler's fury. Even Master Bruce, through his younger years of tantrums and misbehavior, had hardly ever seen the wrath of Alfred Pennyworth.

But in that one moment, seeing the burn scarring the middle of his master's palm, the anger got the better of dear old Alfred.

Throughout the last few days of "testing", Alfred's fear had been rising and as it did, the anger within him began to burn.

Alfred was not sure of many things in this new and dangerous future that had been thrust upon him, but he was absolutely certain of this: he had lost the Waynes, he could not bear to lose his final charge too.

Alfred stared down at the burn for a moment, and then his own hand struck out. Gripping the young boy's thankfully uninjured wrist, he gave Bruce a violent shake.

"My God, you stupid little boy!" he cried, his terror momentarily clouding his mind and sealing his throat.

His eyes meet those of Master Bruce. Alfred could see himself reflected in the small, perfect irises.

Master Bruce's face was frozen in a mix of defiance and fear. Fear, that Alfred knew, must be painted on his own face as well.

Regret calmed the flames in the man's mind. Here was his precious boy, in pain and clouded by anger and fear. More of the same would do no good.

"Oh," breathed Alfred. He released Master Bruce's wrist and pulled the boy into a rough embrace.

"It's alright," he soothed, "Sorry. It's going to be alright."

Master Bruce's hands did not come around him, but his body slumped into Alfred's. Had his guardian not been supporting him, he would have slid to the ground.

Anger was not the way to tame this child. Bruce Wayne had enough anger for the both of them.

He had to be the steadfast love that calmed the boy's internal storm.

However, Alfred couldn't help but wonder, who on earth would sooth his own rage?

If this damned city tried to take away the only thing that Alfred Pennyworth had left in this world, then his anger just might burn it to the ground.

 **A little bit of a shorter chapter this time. Please Review!**


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